


Walk This Way

by dicklomatticimmunity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Incest, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 02:47:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/717982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicklomatticimmunity/pseuds/dicklomatticimmunity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted on tumblr, in response to this prompt from jerkfaceandasshatt: <i>Ok ficlet it is. Sam and Dean in a bar, Sam is getting close with a girl/guy (whatever you want), Dean is jealous and pulls Sam out the back door, sex. =D</i></p><p>Published to LJ on March 31, 2012.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walk This Way

Dean glares at Sam from across the bar. Apparently, getting his brother drunk loosens Sam up enough that he actually starts _talking_ to other people. He should be pleased with himself that Sam is actually flirting with a guy, right now. Not only does he now know that Sam is gay (or bisexual, but he’s betting gay), but he feels like Sam owes him fifty bucks, because hey, Sam never does this.

And yet all he can think about is how much he _wants_ to be that guy. The guy Sam is flirting with has no right to be near his brother – either that, or Sam has terrible taste. The guy is wearing a t-shirt three sizes too big, and his pants are riding so low that the guy’s freaking asscrack is showing.

Wow, he thinks to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. He takes a swig from his glass of whiskey, savors the burn. Maybe he should just…

Yeah. He should show his brother who’s boss, haul them both out of here, and have sex in the Impala. Yeah, that’s a great idea. And Sam might, just might, be drunk enough to forget the _oh hey incest_ part and not regret it in the morning.

Dean rolls the idea around in his head a bit more. He continues to watch Sam from afar, paying attention to every move. The guy hasn’t sat down with Sam yet, which means that Sam may not be serious about this. Maybe Sam just –

And then Sam smacks the guy’s ass, and it’s over. Dean finishes his drink, slams the empty glass down with more force than necessary, and reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He leaves enough cash to cover his tab, puts his wallet away, then walks over to Sam, determined to get his brother out of this joint.

He must look menacing, because as soon as the guy notices him, he tells Sam, “I’ll see you later,” and almost literally scurries off, as though he’s afraid of being beaten to death.

“What are you doing over here?” Sam says. His lips curve into an amused smile. “You look pissed.”

Dean exhales slowly. “We should get out of here.”

“Why?” Sam chuckles. “Aren’t you having fun?”

Dean has to smile, because he rarely sees his brother like this.

“Not really,” he replies. “I can get drunk by myself in a motel room. I don't have to be here.”

Sam snorts, then laughs, louder than before. It draws the attention of everyone around them. Dean inhales quietly in the silence, because other parts of him are suddenly becoming very interested in his goal of getting out of here.

Maybe he should lay off the shots and stick with mixed drinks, himself.

Sam stops laughing, and he practically slides off of his barstool. “Alright. You driving?”

Dean opens his mouth to speak, shuts it to consider the question – neither of them are fit for driving, really – and then answers. “Damn right I am.”

“Good,” Sam replies. He laughs again as he walks slowly towards Dean, slightly wobbly on his feet.

Dean puts an arm around Sam and escorts him out of the bar. He chooses the back door, because there, he’s sure he can find a nice space that’s private, where he can push Sam against a wall and kiss him without being interrupted.

As he walks Sam out, he catches a mournful glance from the guy Sam had been flirting with. He snarls at the guy, who jumps back in shock, allowing him to get by.

As soon as they’re outside, Dean walks Sam to the other side of the ice freezer, away from windows and doors, and kisses Sam fiercely as he shoves Sam against the metal freezer. He lets out his pent–up frustration, his jealousy, his everything, and he hopes, deep down, that Sam gets it, because more than he realizes, he wants Sam to be his, only his.

He pulls back from the kiss, fully expecting Sam to get angry with him. Instead, Sam stares at him, as though trying to see through a tunnel that goes all the way through his skull, and then smiles.

“I like,” Sam says, sounding giddy with joy.

Dean simply stares for a few moments, temporarily dumbstruck by Sam's silly reaction.

“Good," he says, as he attempts to wrap his head around that thought. He gives up, though, because his alcohol-addled brain has other plans. He kisses Sam again, and this time Sam pulls him into a nearly crushing embrace. He slides his tongue over Sam’s warm, red lips, and they part for him as Sam reaches out with his tongue to taste him.

Dean realizes they’re not going to make it to the Impala before their clothes come off.

He doesn’t care.


End file.
